If Only You (Bergman Brothers, #6)(54)

I told myself I’d honor that request. And I mean to, even if I’ve thought a lot about just what exactly “more” could mean.

Pushing aside kissing thoughts, I clear my throat and meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Okay. Well, in that case, I was worried about you.”

A muscle in his jaw jumps. He nods.

“And I…sort of missed talking to you.”

His eyes hold mine. “Yeah. I…missed that, too.”

I try not to smile, hearing that, but I fail. Twisting my mouth, I try to hide it. “Is that why you’re here? Or was it just to drop off the clothes?”

A heavy sigh leaves him. Sebastian brings his hands to his face and scrubs it roughly. “I think so, yes. I mean…it wasn’t just the clothes. It wasn’t even mostly the clothes.” His hands fall. “Fuck me, I don’t know—I don’t have experience with this. I’m flailing around, trying to find my way. I want to be around you without being a depraved asshole who only teases you or is sticking his tongue down your throat, but clearly that’s not a skillset I’ve spent a lot of time developing.”

I almost tell him I really don’t mind the teasing, because Lord knows I like giving it right back to him. I almost tell him I wish he’d stick his tongue down my throat again already. That I have thoroughly missed that—all of that—everything that I feel and experience when spending time with Sebastian.

But he told me his boundary. He told me what he wants. Friends. Nothing that compromises his friendship with Ren. Nothing that makes him feel like he’s crossed the line with me into a place he’s uncomfortable with.

I’m going to respect that.

Even if I’m pretty sure I’ve stumbled into a pretty serious crush on Sebastian Gauthier. Even if I feel possibility crackle in the air between us, a magnetic pull right in the center of me, drawing me toward him.

“Well…” I push off the counter. “We did fine at angry yoga, before I left. No depraved assholery. Or…tongues down throats.”

Sebastian blows out another heavy breath. “Yeah.”

“Sure, things got quiet here and there, but that took two of us. We’re just figuring this out, Sebastian. There’s bound to be bumps on the road. Now you’re here. I’m here. And we both missed talking. So, let’s go sit and…talk.”

Sebastian glances toward my reading chair, the only seating I have. It’s oversized, enough to fit two average-sized people. He and I, however, are not average-sized people. Sebastian clears his throat. “I’ll stand.”

“No.” I start past him, taking his hand and tugging him with me. “I can sit on the floor, stretch out on the rug. I need to do my nighttime stretches anyway—”

Suddenly my hand is tugged, and I’m wrenched back toward Sebastian, making me stumble into him.

He stares at me, his thumb circling my palm. “Sorry. I…” He shakes his head. “Sorry. I just think I…”

Standing still, I search his eyes. “You think…?” I offer gently.

“I think…” His hand slides up my arm, drawing me closer. “I might need…a hug. If you’re, uh, comfortable with that.”

A smile lifts my mouth. That’s all he needed? I wonder why it was so hard to ask.

Then I remember how he stepped back as soon as I walked out the door from our breakfast spot earlier this week, how I barely caught that nonverbal cue in time to hide the fact that I was about to open my arms and hug him goodbye. I lifted my arms for a stretch over my head, complaining about how Yuval had kicked our butts.

He didn’t want a hug then. And yet he wants one now?

Maybe because the last time you put your hands on him, you practically threw yourself at him? Maybe because he wasn’t sure he could ask for a simple hug without you trying to maul his mouth with yours again?

Right. Well. This is my chance to show him that I can hug him, just as friends.

“Of course you can have a hug,” I tell him. Thinking platonic thoughts, I wrap my arms gently around his neck. Sebastian lists into me, but slowly, almost as if he’s resisting it.

He doesn’t seem like he has much more knowledge of platonic hugs than he does friendships. So I wait, giving him time to feel it out. Carefully, hesitantly, he wraps his arms around my back and pulls me close. Our chests touch, hearts beating against each other.

And then, little by little, I feel his body relax, tension leave his shoulders as they lower, air fill his lungs slow and easy.

“There,” I tell him, scraping my fingertips gently across the nape of his neck and the curl of his hair. “You got the hang of it.”

“Fuck,” he mutters against my neck. “Hugs are good.”

I smile into his shoulder. “Yeah, they are.”

For a while, we just stand there, Sebastian with his arms around me, mine around him, chins on each other’s shoulders.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

I comb my fingers through the ends of his hair again. “You don’t need to be sorry for needing a hug, Sebastian.”

He squeezes me a little, tucking me closer, and exhales heavily. “Well, I’m also sorry I showed up uninvited at your apartment. You have a game tomorrow. I shouldn’t keep you up.” He starts to pull away. “I should go.”